His Silent Luna

Chapter 1

It was the loud banging that left holes in the walls, the thumping of my mother's favorite vase flying, and the crashing sound as it made contact with the wooden floor. It was the unapologetic 'I'm sorry', the oh so loving laughter, and the slurs of the drunken fool. These were the sounds that made up the man I called my father. The monster that was okay with laying his hands on the only ones that he swore to love. The monster that damaged me forever, creating the sounds that would forever replay in the back of my head; however, the monster was never under my bed, because the only monster I needed to fear, was the one waking me up in the morning, not the one coming out after I was asleep.

I was packing the last few clothing items I owned when there was a knock on my door, I walked across my room and discovered on the other side. My mother. "Hi" she smiled and I walked back over to my boxes and continued packing my things. "You're going to have to try talking at this new place Emmett" she paused "New friends, new start-" I cut her off by throwing a picture in her lap. "I know" she frowned. I felt my heart pull at the picture of my brother and me, it was the day I had come home from the hospital. "I miss him too" she whispered as I huffed and pointed to my open door.

She stopped before she shut the door all the way and she sighed "I love you" but I said nothing. If only I had the courage to speak up and say something along the lines of Well if you loved us. You wouldn't have stayed with a monster.

I still remember that day we lost Anthony. Our father had come home with liquor on his breath. He was looking for someone to fight, he was going after mom, and then Anthony stepped in. Anthony was 6ft by the age of 16, growing taller than our father who was only 5ft 4. Anthony stood in front of mom like his life depended on it, he was raised right, and everyone knew it. Anthony looked like perfection, he was the star athlete, and he was sure to get a scholarship and he promised to take momma and me away with him. His hair and eyes were the color of dark roasted beans; yet, his skin resembled a more olive color like momma and I's. He had a shy look, the look some teens get when they grow up too fast, and we all knew Anthony had. He has muscle on him that made him look beach ready, but we lived in Seattle Washington. Anthony stood tall; however, with the crash of a bottle, he had already lost the fight. I ran next to him screaming trying to dial emergency aid, but I was too late. Later, doctors said Anthony had an aneurysm that ruptured when our father hit him with the broken bottle.

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edited April 27, 2019